Which is how I found myself seated across the table from Melissa and her younger brother ten minutes later while Melissa's mom dished out generous portions of food onto everybody's plate.

Melissa's dad had smiled widely and shaken my hand heartily when Melissa and I had walked downstairs. Welcoming me to the home, he'd ushered me into a seat with a joke about his wife's 'healthy cooking' before taking his own seat at the head of the table, pretending to cringe under the look she had thrown at him. Jacob shrilled laughter and Melissa groaned in annoyance, and I sat very still with my eyes on the center of the table.

"So, Duncan, did you cut yourself shaving?" Mr. Applegate asks me, still laughing softly. He's holding his chin in his hand, miming shaving his own cheek. I swallow my automatic fear at being asked a question and face him, forcing a rueful chuckle to pass my lips. I can do this; I've had plenty of conversations like this with Bruce, and even though most of those had ended with him smacking me, every once in a while I got off with just viciously sarcastic remarks.

"Heh, nah," I tell him quietly, shrugging and not quite meeting his eyes, "I, uh, got in kind of a... fight abou' a week ago."

Melissa kicks me under the table at the same moment Joshua shrieks out, "You got in a fight?! COOL!"

"No, it is not cool, is it, Duncan?" The look Melissa gives me pierces me, and I can't speak for a minute. I can feel everyone's eyes on me: Mrs. Applegate's filled with concern, Joshua's with awe. Melissa is glaring at me, eyebrows raised, silently screaming at me to fix what I've done, and Mr. Applegate's gaze holds nothing but genuine curiosity.

"Uh...nah, it ain't cool..." Melissa nod encouragement, but I have no idea where to go with this. It's different that making up a lie to get out of a beating; Joshua's face is so...admiring. Melissa relents, though, and rescues me.

"Duncan doesn't like fighting, Joshy," She tells him, capturing his attention by leaning forward, "And he wishes he'd never gotten into that stupid fight. Right, Duncan?"

"Uh, right," I say, wilting a bit under her gaze, "It, uh, it ain't no fun gettin' hit." That, at least, is the truth.

"Well, what happened? If you don't like fighting, then how come you did?"

Melissa throws me another look, and I swallow a retort.

"It, well... it wasn' really my fault. There's these guys that, uh, don' really like me, an' they, uh, they..." I glance desperately at Melissa, unsure of how to continue. It's easier with Bruce: he doesn't really listen, just waits for me to stop talking so he can decide whether he wants to hit me or not.

Melissa rolls her eyes at me and takes up the thread of my story. "Duncan gets picked on at school, Joshy." The way the kid deflates, I can tell that he's all too familiar with being picked on.

"They wouldn' leave me alone, an' one of 'em shoved me, so I, uh, shoved him back..." I steal a glance at Mr. Applegate, hoping I'm not digging myself a hole I won't be able to climb out of, "An' then, we were kinda, uh, fightin'."

"What should Duncan have done, Joshy, instead of fighting?"

"Told a teacher!" Joshua beams, proud of himself, and I can tell that this is something that's been hammered into him.

"Right. And that's just what Duncan is going to do next time. Isn't it?" Melissa kicks me under the table again, and I wince before nodding.

"Yah, it is. Ya' should always try n' talk first..." I mumble, leaning down to rub my shin. Mr. Applegate smiles and claps his hands together.

"Well, let's eat, before Melissa breaks this poor boy's leg, shall we?" He grins at me, and I force a smile back, wishing I was anywhere but here.

Dinner slowly resumes, but I've completely lost my appetite.  Mrs. Applegate offers to make me something else, "There's bound to be a T.V. dinner stashed in that freezer somewhere," but I shake my head.

"I'm jus' not hungry, Ma'am," I mutter, avoiding Melissa's questioning gaze. Mrs. Applegate rashes over and pats my hands, telling me she'll make me up a plate to take home. I force myself not to jerk away and manage a small smile, mumbling some kind of thanks. Melissa gives me yet another look, and I concentrate on toying with the silverware.

Finally, Mr. Applegate pushes his plate away and proclaims the meal, "finished and fantastic". Mrs. Applegate smiles and stands, and everyone starts to pass empty plates her way. I rise from my seat a moment later, moving to grab the cups and silverware. As I move to grab Mr. Applegate's cup, he raises his eyebrows slightly.

"What are you doing, Duncan?"

I freeze, my hand just touching his glass, and slowly raise my gaze to his face. I know I've blown it somehow as I answer, "Jus'...clearin' th' table, Sir."

Melissa stifles a giggle, and I look at her sharply. She and Joshua are both looking at me with mingled confusion and amusement on their faces.

I stare at them blankly a moment before demanding, "What'd I do?" The kids dissolve into howls of laughter as Mrs. Applegate leans forward and lays a hand on my arm.

"You don't need to help clear the table, sweetheart. You're a guest." I pull my gaze away from Melissa, who's doubled up in her chair, as Mrs. Applegate continues, "Just sit and relax; Melissa and Joshua-" She turns abruptly and fixes the two with a stare- "Will be happy to help me clear the table and get dessert ready."

Snapping their mouths shut, both Melissa and Joshua straighten and fix their mother with incredulous stares a split second before erupting into protest. Mrs. Applegate silences them with an angry swipe of her hand, and they both shove back from the table, grumbling under their breath.

The similarities between Melissa and her brother are incredible. Joshua mimics her with an accuracy that's almost scary: The exact way they both slump their shoulders and drag their feet, the exaggerated motions they use to pick up and carry the dishes... Even the way they both slam open the swinging kitchen door with their left shoulder, falling into it as if they were exhausted beyond reason...

I'm shaken from my observations by Mr. Applegate clearing his throat, and I guiltily turn to face him, sinking back into my seat. He grins at me and kind of rolls his eyes.

"They act like it's the worst thing they've ever done, but when it's time to go ride the horses, you can't get them to slow down," he laughs, reaching to take a toothpick from the holder in the middle of the table. I watch his hand as it draws back from the middle of the table, toothpick in tow, and cough out a chuckle of my own.

"Yeah," I say. I can't help but wonder just how hard that hand can hit, and I blurt the first thing that pops into my head. "They always like that?" Once the words are out of my mouth, though, I realize just how rude they sound.

Mr. Applegate just laughs again and rolls the toothpick back and forth in his fingers before putting it in his mouth. I know I'm staring, but I don't think I can tear my eyes away; I just don't know how fast he is. With Bruce, I know how long I have to move out of the way when I hear him stand. I know his reach, and I know his patterns. Melissa's dad, though...I had no clue.

"No, they're just kicking up a fuss because you're here," he smiles, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, "Well, I should say Melissa is kicking up a fuss because you're here," he smiles wider, and his eyes seem genuinely kind, but I'm not letting my guard down, not with just the two of us in the room. "And so of course Joshua is going to kick up a fuss."

I force a grin to my lips, letting my gaze wander to Mrs. Applegate as she pushes back through the swinging door, the kids dragging along in her wake. She smiles at us and tells us dessert will be right out, and then herds the kids back into the kitchen, prodding them into action with promises of no cobbler if they keep up the attitude. Melissa just groans louder, but Joshua's eyes widen. I notice his steps are a little lighter as he pushes through the kitchen door after his mom and sister, and wonder what the heck 'cobbler' is.

"So, Duncan, tell me about yourself, son."

I turn back to Mr. Applegate with a shrug to hide my trepidation. "Not much t' tell, Sir."

"Oh, come now, I'm sure there's something you can tell me about you that I don't know!" He leans forward on his elbows and chews on the toothpick, "What do you like to do for fun?" What?

"Uh, I dunno," I tell him. I've never thought about it before, but I don't do much with my life besides doing everything I could to escape from Bruce.

"Do you play sports? Video games?" Mr. Applegate prompts. I stare at him and try to think of something I do besides hang around at Jason's; I had the feeling that telling Melissa's dad that my idea of a good time was helping Jason with whatever insane(and usually illegal) thing popped into his head.

"Street racing? Super-secret spy stuff?" He laughs at this last one, and it's truly the strangest feeling I've ever experienced, being joked with for not answering a question.

I finally mutter, "It w's cool t' hang out wit' Melissa t'day, I guess."

His eyebrows raise slightly, but Mr. Applegate doesn't say anything, just smiles some more. I grind my teeth and berate myself for giving him something he can take away from me. I'm not this sloppy with Bruce, but then again, I'm not trying to figure Bruce out anymore.

"Well, we hope to be seeing a lot more of you, son," Mr. Applegate tells me, leaning back and rolls the toothpick across his bottom teeth. I shrug again. "This move was harder on her than on Joshua; he's young enough that making friends in grade school is easy. At least," he amends, like I'm stupid enough to contradict him, "A whole sight easier than making friends in high school. You can imagine, I bet."

I just shrug one more time, having no idea how to respond. I've never been able to make friends, how the hell am I supposed to know how easy it is?

"Anyway, I appreciate you befriending her. She's the kind of sensitive girl that needs friends, takes everything to heart, you know?" I don't, but I nod anyway. Mr. Applegate is quiet for a minute, then tries again, changing topics.

"Melissa said you have two classes together, History and Homeroom." He says, like he's asking a question. "You like History?" There it is.

"'s okay," I mumble, "I don' hate it."

"I bet not," he says under his breath, and I ignore it, not sure if he's goading me or just joking around again. Aloud he says, "Well, Melissa tells me that you're smarter than you give yourself credit for. She's confident in an A on this project you're working on." I don't even nod this time, just keep my eyes on the table cloth in front of me.

"Okay, we don't have to talk about school. How about you tell me about the fight that earned you the split cheek?"

I glance sharply at him, but Mr. Applegate's face holds no malice, just curiosity.

"'s jus' a li'l misunderstandin' 'tween me an' a couple guys. No big deal."

"Do these 'misunderstandings' happen often?"

I drop my gaze and shake my head. "No, Sir."

"Duncan," Mr. Applegate begins, but he's cut off by Mrs. Applegate sweeping into the room, holding a glass pan aloft and sashaying toward the table. the kids following with plates and a tub of ice cream, sauntering into the room, mimicking their mother's attitude of exaggerated solemn majesty. As they set down the sweets and hand out plates, Joshua looses it and breaks into giggles, which makes Melissa snort and nearly drop a plate, and soon, the whole family is laughing.

With a final contented sigh, Mrs. Applegate produces serving spoons from her apron and doles out equal portions onto the plates. Melissa helps her hand them out, and smacks Joshua's hand as he tries to stick his finger in the ice cream.

It's all so surreal that I just sit there as Melissa puts a plate in front of me, then takes a plate for herself. Handing me a spoon, she plops down across from me with a grin, and tells me to 'dig in'.